by T. A. Uner
“Well how is this plan going to help me escape undetected?” Eliana said as she slipped out of her bed.
“Put on the guard’s uniform,” Decimus said. He removed the guard’s helm and chain mail shirt.
“Look at me,” Eliana said. “I don’t have the build of a guard. They’ll know I’m a woman.”
“Not if you keep quiet. You’ll pose as this guard until we reach the main gate. After that escape will be easy…I hope. Besides, from afar you’ll look like any other guard. It’s a gamble, but if you have a better idea now is the time to hear it.”
Eliana sighed. “Turn around,” she said, “I must undress.”
“Yes, of course,” Decimus said. He walked toward the entrance to Eliana’s room and stood guard with his back turned to her. Fortunately the corridor was empty and there was no activity near the top of the staircase.
“You can turn around now Decimus.”
Decimus whirled around and smiled. For the most part Eliana easily fit into the Guard’s chain mail and leather pteruges. But her slender arms and legs were a dead giveaway.
“How do I look?”
“Cover your head with that helm and we’ll soon find out.”
Eliana donned the helm and tucked her hair up under it, best she could.
“Let us hope it fools the guards.”
Decimus led the way as they descended the spiral staircase, while in the background, an elaborate wall mosaic of two vicious lions attacking a fallen Combat Griffin stared down at them. The corridor at the bottom of the steps was empty. “Look sharp,” Decimus said.
Eliana nodded.
They passed marble statues of Roman deities lining the corridor before turning right and proceeding down another corridor. Halfway down the corridor a guard appeared; Decimus held his breath. But the guard paid them no attention and continued on his way. They emerged into the atrium which was empty except for a slave girl who was scrubbing the floors. They passed her and exited the house via the main entranceway.
“This was easier than I thought,” Eliana said as they walked toward the gate. The air outside was humid and Decimus felt a streak of sweat run down the back of his neck. Up ahead, the entrance gate loomed ominously before them; Decimus could see Norbanus’ guards waiting for them, while his Praetorians sat atop their horses, behind the gate.
Eliana and Decimus inched closer until one of the guards opened the gate.
“Walk toward my men, and climb atop my charger,” Decimus whispered into Eliana’s ear, before pointing at a muscular steed.
She nodded. Decimus approached the guard who still had his weapons. This is where the flaw in the plan is exposed, he thought as he took his sword and dagger. Eliana walked past him toward his horse, whose reigns were held by one of the younger Guardsmen. One of Norbanus’ guards stared suspiciously at Eliana’s disguise. Shit on me. Now we’re fucked.
“You there! Where are you going?” the guard called out to Eliana.
Both guards drew their swords.
“Get that guard on my horse,” Decimus ordered the Praetorian, before drawing his own sword. He charged Norbanus’ guards while the startled young Praetorian grabbed Eliana’s hand and hoisted her onto the saddle.
Decimus slashed at the first guard who parried his blow while Eliana stirred the horse to action and charged at the other guard, who dived out of the horse’s path to avoid being run down. The first guard scored a cut across Decimus’ shoulder, slashing a deep gash his cuirass. Decimus noticed a streak of blood appear on his shoulder and came at the guard with fury as their two swords met again. I don’t want to kill him, only buy time for Eliana to get to safety, Decimus thought, while his Praetorians disbelievingly watched the spectacle unfold.
The guard came at Decimus again with another cut and he easily parried the blow. I have to end this quickly before more guards are alerted. He reached toward the ground and threw dirt in the guard’s face. The man staggered backwards while trying to wipe the dirt from his eyes with his free hand.
Decimus struck.
He head-butted the disoriented guard who tripped over his foot and fell over the other guard. Eliana rode up beside Decimus. He quickly sheathed his sword before climbing onto the saddle behind her.
“You never told me you were an accomplished rider,” Decimus said.
“You never asked,” she replied, as they raced off down the hill. The other Praetorians followed. Soon, Norbanus’ villa disappeared behind them.
One of the Praetorians caught up to Eliana and Decimus. “Sir? What’s going on?” he asked.
“Senator Remus and his family are in danger, I need you and the rest of these men to make sure that no harm comes to them.”
The guardsman shot Decimus a confused look. “Sir? Our orders were to proceed with you to the forest and hunt down the Leopard King.”
“You have new orders now,” Decimus said curtly. “And I expect you to follow them.”
The guard nodded obediently and the other Praetorians followed him as they galloped off toward the city.
“I’ve put my life and career in jeopardy based on your words, my Lady.”
Eliana smiled reassuringly. “Then I think it’s time you met a friend of mine.”
{II}
Tullus ran as if Mercury’s speed had possessed him. The others Troupe members were still ahead of him, mounted on their horses and racing away from the determined foe that hounded them through the forest. One of these days I must get over my fear of horses, Tullus thought. Celestra was ahead of him too. Occasionally she glanced back and growled at him to hurry up.
It felt strange. Being chased by Roman Legionaries. As if being targeted by Praetorians wasn’t bad enough. Now, he had the First Legion hunting him and his friends.
Tullus slowed and paused a few moments to catch his breath. Celestra saw this and changed direction toward him. He brought his water skin to his dry lips and drank greedily. The cool water wet his parched throat and his thirst abated.
Celestra stopped, looked up at him, and growled.
“I can’t run as fast as you girl.” Celestra sniffed the air and growled again, this time more menacingly.
Tullus turned around. Before him stood a large brown boar. The creature snorted at him, slaver dripping from its mouth. Its jagged ivory tusks gleamed under the shafts of white sunlight that peaked through the canopy of tree branches above.
Tullus drew LeopardClaw while Celestra charged the creature. She pounced on its back but the boar shook her off with ease while it snorted and slobbered. Its beady black eyes met Tullus’ before it lowered its head and charged. Tullus, amazed by the boar’s speed, managed to evade the oncoming beast, who attempted to impale him with its sharp tusks. Celestra charged the boar again–this time they met head on. The boar tried gouging Celestra with its tusks but the Leopardess’ reflexes easily evaded its thrusts. She circled around the creature who grunted ferociously at her.
“Time to end this,” Tullus said. He drew LeopardTooth from its sheath and launched it at the boar’s hairy body. It struck the boar in its side and it squealed in pain and turned to face Tullus again. Tullus drew LeopardClaw.
Celestra pounced on its back again. The boar shook her off again but Celestra won Tullus the precious time he needed to bring LeopardClaw down on the boar’s head. Blood spurted from its neck and splattered over Tullus’ wrists before the creature collapsed, Tullus re-sheathed LeopardClaw.
“Looks like pork’s on the menu tonight,” Tullus said as Anna, Vulcan, Gansu and Masego rode up on their horses.
“When we lost you we decided to circle back,” Anna said.
“Well now you can help carry our next meal,” Tullus replied as he dragged the boar’s corpse toward them. After the boar was slung over Vulcan’s horse, they resumed their hegira. Our fight with the boar has cost us precious escape time, Tullus thought. Behind him the blare of the Cornicen’s Cornu flooded the forest, signaling pursuit orders to the Legionaries. “Split up,” Tullus ordered the Trou
pe. Vulcan whirled his horse around and approached Tullus.
“Where shall we meet?” the German asked before the others gathered around Tullus atop their horses.
“In Rome. That’s the last place they’ll expect to find us.”
“That’s foolery,” Anna said. “I didn’t ask for your opinion Anna,” Tullus said. “Just do as I command.”
They all looked at Tullus as if he was insane.
“But what about Celestra? They’ll know you’re The Leopard King if you walk into the city with her by your side,” Anna said.
“You four ride ahead. They don’t know what Troupe members look like; I’ll follow you and enter the city after dark–that way me and Celestra won’t attract attention, we’ll meet in front of the back door to Yeshiva’s warehouse.”
Anna nodded and the others followed her along an easterly route out of the forest, away from Tullus and Celestra.
Tullus looked at Celestra. “Now girl, let’s lose our pursuers.”
{III}
“Look at the bright side, Camus,” Evol Mur said as he chewed on a chicken leg, “at least the attacks have stopped.”
Camus Scorpio knew his lieutenant was right, but that still didn’t make him feel any better. He watched from the head of the table as his men savored their supper. Their mood cheerful, despite the massive material losses they’d taken over the past few weeks. “Yes, both Norbanus’ men and the First Legion have been pursuing this Leopard King, but, we’ve lost a fortune in profits, and worse, we now appear vulnerable in the eyes of the other Collegium members.”
“None of those dogfuckers have the gall to oppose us, Camus. We still have the most footmen in all of Rome,” Evol Mur added before belching, “and the resources to buy more. Add Blackcat and Terror into the mix and they’d be mad to go to war with us.”
Behind Scorpio’s seat Blackcat flexed his muscles while Terror gnawed on a piece of mutton.
“Even so, we must focus on our next project.”
“That large batch of slaves we procured,” Blackcat said.
“Ohh, right,” Evol Mur said before he took a sip of mead, “we’ve been so busy with this Leopard King maggot I’d almost forgotten about those sheep.”
“I’ve found a buyer for them,” Scorpio said. “I want all of the able-bodied men, women and children ready for transport. You can kill the old, sick ones.”
“Blackcat and I will see to that,” Evol Mur said gleefully.
Scorpio admired the way Evol Mur always accepted his duties with fervor. The man had turned killing into an art by honing his talents on his victims. It was different for Blackcat Barros, killing was like farting for the Dacian, he did it because it came naturally. Regardless, Scorpio was happy both men served his interests.
One of the servers brought more wine to the table.
He was a young man with sharp features and a snub nose. Scorpio had never seen him before, perhaps Marissa had recently hired him.
“You,” Scorpio called out to the young man. “Come here.”
The young man picked up a trencher filled with various shellfish delicacies from a nearby table and approached Scorpio. “Would you care for fresh oysters, dear sir?” He asked while extending the trencher with one hand toward Scorpio.
“Never mind that, boy,” Camus said, “I’ve never seen you around here before…who in Orcus’ name are you?”
“Oh, I’m new to this establishment.” The young man grinned as he slipped his other hand under the trencher.
“I can see that, simpleton. Who hired you?”
A glint of light flashed under the trencher before the server hurled it to the floor. Scorpio noticed the small knife in the young man’s hand, and instinctively, jerked his head backwards as it arched towards his throat. But the blade had already nicked Scorpio’s neck, causing a thin line of blood to trickle from the wound. The assassin lunged at Scorpio again but Blackcat Barros unsheathed his sword and moved himself between Scorpio and the assailant. Despite the big man’s presence the assassin advanced toward Scorpio, knife in hand. Terror launched himself at the assassin and sunk his teeth into the young man’s ankle. He cried out in pain and dropped his knife.
“Don’t kill him,” Scorpio said. “I want him alive.”
Blackcat let out a shrill whistle and Terror retracted his teeth from the assassin’s bloody ankle, while a small pool of brown blood formed at his feet. The man fell to his knees and looked up at Scorpio, his gaze filled with defiance.
“Who sent you?” Scorpio asked, holding the bloody towel against his neck.
The assassin eyed Scorpio murderously. He grabbed his knife and again launched himself at Scorpio. Blackcat elbowed the man in the chest, sending the assassin tumbling to the floor again. But the man was relentless, still gripping the knife, he rose yet again, his sandals and tunic soiled with blood. Terror growled and again launched himself at the assassin, who tried cutting the panther, but Terror avoided the slashes and pinned the man to the ground with his great claws. Scorpio’s men surrounded them, weapons drawn, before Terror stepped down from the assassin’s chest.
“Take him to the supply room,” Scorpio said. “And someone clean up this fucking mess.”
Evol Mur grabbed the assassin’s arm and pulled him up from the floor before someone brought a rope and tied the assassin’s wrists together. The assassin attempted to free himself by flailing around like a trapped squirrel but couldn’t break free of his bonds. Instead, blood rained everywhere, making the floor a slick predicament. Inside the supply room Scorpio stood in front of the assassin and stared down at him. “Who sent you?”
“I can’t seem to recall,” the young man said.
“Blackcat, hold him.”
The Dacian lumbered over toward the assassin and stood behind him before grabbing the assassin’s arms. The assassin struggled again but it proved futile against Blackcat’s brute strength.
Evol Mur pulled out the knife the assassin had used on Scorpio.
“Where do you want me to cut him, Camus?”
“Relieve him of an ear; see if that loosens his tongue.”Evol Mur grinned and approached the young man, whose head swayed back and forth. “This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,” Mur said. Kletus Spearthrower grabbed the young man’s head, holding it firmly in place, while Evol Mur carved off the ear.
Scorpio watched as the assassin screamed, blood surging down the side of his neck. Evol Mur cut the remaining flap of skin that held the ear in place and threw the organ to the floor. Tears streamed down the boy’s face. This child calls himself an assassin? How pathetic, Scorpio thought. In the days of the Skull Order, a runt like this couldn’t even serve as page to a Skull Assassin. “I think you enjoy your work too much,” Scorpio said to Evol Mur. The men laughed. “Now, boy, feel like talking?”
The boy grimaced, then cocked his head backwards and spat at Scorpio’s feet.
Scorpio smiled. “That’s not the answer I was looking for.” He nodded at Evol Mur who wiped the bloody blade on the boy’s tunic. The knife edged closer to the young man’s other ear before he muttered one word: “Quintas.”
“What?” Evol Mur said.
“Lexus Quintas. That’s who hired me to kill you, Scorpio.”
“So that’s the shitworm who has aspirations on my territories,” Scorpio scoffed. “You’d think he’d send a better killer to snuff me out, well, it will cost him a lot more than this fool’s life.”
“You’re finished anyhow, Scorpio, the whole city’s talking about the fall of the Iron Scorpion.”
“Shut him up Blackcat,” Scorpio said.
With one swift motion Blackcat drew his sword and hacked off the young man’s head. Blood spewed out of the severed neck like a fountain while the head rolled towards Scorpio’s feet. He picked it up and tossed the bloody head at Kletus Spearthrower who nearly dropped it.
“Send that to Lexus Quintas,” Scorpio said before he turned around and walked out of the room.
; Evol Mur followed Scorpio out of the room. “It’s started.”
“Well, at least we know who it is; that makes it easier.”
“Others might follow Quintas’ lead.”
“Let them,” Scorpio said, “we’ve waited long enough as it is. Quintas waited until we were distracted before making his move, so now it is our turn to return the favor.” They returned to the hall and sat down on a bench underneath one of the wooden tables. “Round up twenty footmen and hit him hard,” Scorpio said as he clenched his fist and punched his palm.
“I’ll go now, Camus,” Evol Mur said.
After Evol Mur left, Blackcat and Terror found Scorpio.
“You look troubled, Camus.”
“I survived my first assassination attempt and that is all you can say? Go make yourself useful, Blackcat. Contact our buyer; tell him, the slaves are now ready for sale.”
Fifteen/Quindecim
Eliana and Decimus rode toward Yeshiva’s warehouse. After hobbling the horse outside, Eliana led Decimus inside. The musty smell of the warehouse reminded Decimus of a stable as they navigated narrow aisles lined with stacks of neatly folded wool.
“Who is this friend you wish me to meet?” Decimus asked. His patience was wearing thin. He risked much coming here.
“Don’t worry Decimus, in a few moments everything will make sense.”
They came upon a wooden table in front of a large shelf filled with scrolls. It was situated in the back corner of the warehouse where a bearded man was writing something down on a parchment with a stylus. He looked up and stared warily at Decimus.
“Eliana, who is this?”
“Yeshiva, this is Centurion Decimus Axius from the Praetorian Guard.”
Yeshiva stood up from his chair and walked toward them. “I don’t understand? Why have you brought this Centurion here?”
“He’s a friend of Tullus.”